After
by Zura
Summary: Six months after the suicide mission life returns to somewhat normal for the crew of the Normandy. Shepard squares off with an old friend and advances his plans for the galaxy. Male Shepard, spacer, sole survivor, Shadow Broker occurred mid-game and the fic ignores Arrival. First of the "Fairest Of All" series.


I step into the custom made scanner and patch through the outgoing call. So many incoming messages ignored or deleted since the mission but now it is time to set aside differences. It rings only a moment; even with all the bad blood between us I knew he would not refuse to speak to me. The familiar setting of the Illusive Man's grand office overlooking a burning sun comes into focus around me.

As usual he is expecting me. While it is difficult to read cybernetic eyes one can still glean useful information from them. He is angry but not enough to ignore me or make threats. "Shepard. I've been waiting for you."

I nod back to him. No need to be rude. After all I was the one to call him.

"I've been trying to reach you." he continued.

"I know." I say. "I've needed time to gain momentum. It seemed like a good opportunity to talk. We're close to stepping on each other's toes. I'd rather stay busy working on the real threat instead of fighting other humans."

"Busy is an understatement." he said while tapping ash from his cigarette. "Since your galactic announcement you've flown nine sorties on civilian and Alliance behalf. Over four hundred confirmed kills of pirates, slavers, the scum of the galaxy. What exactly are you trying to accomplish with these goodwill missions?"

"We help when and where we can."

"Is that what you call overrunning a human research facility for their biotic work?"

"That place was using slaver bought vorcha and batarians as test subjects. That it had useful research was no more than icing on the cake."

"I'm sure it slipped your mind that it was a Cerberus facility." he accused.

"Wasn't aware of that." I lied.

"Yes you were. We recorded your not so subtle hacking attempts. They bear the signature of the Normandy, a highly advanced VI Mnemosyne type attack aided by sentient geth programs. No one else in the galaxy uses that special combination. No one else can."

I smile despite the situation. He was showing off. The attack in question was an extremely potent digital intrusion that confused, misdirected and ultimately fried lesser firewalls. The advanced nature of EDI's systems boosted by Legion's geth connection gave it a wicked double pronged attack. So far they had yet to run into a system that could resist them. Only Cerberus could have known it was indeed the Normandy hacking the research facility's systems just before we invaded.

The Illusive Man wanted me to be impressed by his intel but I had some of my own. "That's your seventh cigarette. You're up to almost a pack a day lately."

Unflinching he puts his carcinogen treat out and folds his hands in his lap. "If Cerberus wanted to we could strike at the heart of your operation. Don't test me Shepard."

"You could hit my allies yes but no one tracks the Normandy, not the Alliance, not information brokers and not you. All of your surveillance equipment and nav beacons installed on my ship have been found and destroyed. That doesn't matter though. Even if you found us and sent an army of mercs we'd cut them down. You would be next and don't think I wouldn't even if you brought me back from the dead."

We stared at each other and neither of us wanted to blink. I might have been wrong about him not in the mood to make threats but I was prepared to do what was necessary if I had to. I genuinely hoped it didn't go that way.

"Come on." I say after it's clear we've reached an impasse. "It doesn't have to be like that. You and I both know I'm still your best chance at stopping the Reapers. I'm open to working with Cerberus again if you weren't so damn stubborn about your human agenda. Besides. I know where your bases are. You know where most of mine are. If you wanted a war you would have made a move by now. If I wanted one we wouldn't be having this conversation."

A few tense moments take forever to roll by until the Illusive Man said, "What do you want?"

"Cooperation. I answer your calls, provide intel if I can but I'm not your tool anymore. You pull something like sending me a forged distress call again and I'll take apart this scanner with a mallet. If you can agree to that then I don't see why we can't work together."

"I can think of a few. Lacking in vision. Missing the big picture. Too lenient on aliens. Destroying priceless technology. Costing me my best operative."

My face darkens involuntarily. All of the other barbs and verbal jabs I can take but that last one was hitting below the belt. My hands, ones that had crushed countless enemies and shattered the most advanced body armor in the galaxy, tighten at my sides. As fast as the wave of anger is upon me it passes and my mind is clear once more.

"Miranda was an operative to you but she was more than that to me." I say as calmly as I can. "She was a team mate, ship mate, a friend and sometimes more than a friend. If you think her death was my fault you are right. If you think it was on purpose you are wrong. She believed in what she was doing and she wasn't the only friend I lost that day. My failures to them weigh a million times heavier than what you think of me."

The Illusive Man lights up cigarette number eight. He studies me as I study him but I betray nothing. I am ready to end the call here and begin our assault on Cerberus' holdings should he prove belligerent. I hope it doesn't come to that. Cerberus has good people working for it sometimes.

"I'm sorry." he says and I thought I'd never hear that phrase from a bellicose billionaire who fancies himself a god. "Miranda was not just a tool of mine like you believe. I took it personally when I heard of her death. Not only that but it was clear her loyalties were with you by the end."

I nod. There is not much else I can say.

"I have a feeling you will be withholding things in this arrangement that would be more useful shared. I want assurances this won't happen." he said.

"How may I reassure you?" I ask cordially.

"I want a report on everything the Normandy has been working on, new crew members, dealings with the Alliance, where your funding is coming from."

"I'll have a complete file sent to you by the next solar day."

"No. Now. From you, not an assistant or a VI." He catches me off guard with the request but not entirely unprepared.

"All right. A goodwill gift then. What do you want to know about first?"

"There are many reports of your fund to build a second Normandy."

"Yes. The Iwo Jima is 30% paid for." I confirm.

"I know you're taking donations."

"'By the people of the galaxy, for the people of the galaxy'." I recite the tag line of the Iwo Jima Fund.

"A genius marketing ploy."

"Wish I could say I wrote it. I'm an idea man. People better than I make my ideas reality."

"There's no way donations account for all that. Where are you getting the rest?"

"I'm actually surprised you don't know that already." I grinned. "The Normandy is a mining platform unrivaled in the Terminus. Throw in her battle and stealth capabilities and you have a ship that can mine almost anywhere undetected. Most of the time if we are ever attacked we end up reclaiming significant funds from enemies stupid enough to shoot at us. Then we mine anyway."

"Interesting."

"The cargo hold should have been bigger. Sometimes we have to take multiple trips."

"That's all?" he said, not entirely convinced.

"Well... almost. I'm sure you're aware of Dr. Solus' innovative prowess. It's even greater when he has a team behind him."

"I see. Your proclivity for quarians manifests itself in unusual ways. I heard reports of your associations with the shelters on Illium and the Citadel. I do not think you would go so far as to take on refugees."

"They live in poverty eating protein paste while trying to get necessary experience and licensing to land good tech positions. We bring them on to learn from the master. With their background in machinery the fit is perfect. In return they get a piece of the royalties Mordin's patents generate to bring back to the Flotilla."

"The admirals allow this? Given the exile's nature?"

"Allow? I can't get rid of them. They wanted Mordin to come work for them exclusively but he refused. There's still too much Collector backlog to work on."

"How do you keep this quiet?"

"We follow your model, actually. Dummy corporations, drop off boxes, go-betweens, talent agents."

The Illusive Man nods in approval for once. "And your grand scheme for two ships?"

"Same as the current one only with twice the muscle. It's nice to fly under the radar too. Since the press release the Normandy gets a bit more attention than usual."

"Yes, about that. What on earth gave you the idea to go on a galaxy wide news program and lay out the kind of classified information you did to everyone? The Alliance takes great care to make sure not to panic the alien population. You ruined that."

I knew this question was coming at some point. A few months ago I had an extended interview with Khalisah al-Jilani on the details of the fight against the Collectors. It was instantly suppressed by the Alliance but ultimately could not be contained. It brought Cerberus to the forefront of discussions galaxy wide and gave new found if unwanted attention to the Normandy and its crew. Some had become overnight celebrities in their own right.

"People deserve to know what they're up against. I didn't mean for the publicity but that hasn't hurt donations. I imagine Cerberus is enjoying positive mention for once."

"Not as much as you think. Bringing Jack on to talk about her project didn't earn us any points with the Council."

"I told them how it is. You helped me but that's not the whole story. Project Zero. Project Overlord. I've been there. I've seen what happens when your projects start noble and then end violently. Man's reach exceeding his grasp. Plus it was good for Jack's soul. She's got a long way to go."

"I won't deny it's been useful in recruitment but when they learn they won't be working with the famed Commander Shepard some lose interest."

"Hah. I bet."

"Going through the Omega 4 relay to destroy a Collector base. That's good television. Almost as good as capturing it."

"Ah, now we come back to the heart of the matter." I say. "You have your ideas how things should be done and I have mine. If you wanted to keep the base intact you should have gone yourself with your own team. I made my decision and I've yet to regret it even for a moment."

"That base could have yielded information and technology to put humanity on top for good. You wasted it." he said while pointing his cigarette at me.

"No. I erased it. We are better off without it."

"You can't know that."

"Neither can you. What happened to your team aboard the Reaper? They broke down in weeks."

"We could have used multiple teams to avoid indoctrination." he argued.

"You have no guarantees that it would have worked."

"Dammit Shepherd we had to try!"

"How many would have died? What if they reactivated the Reaper? That's the difference between you and me. You'll get power at any cost to your people. I'd destroy a hundred reapers before building one to keep as a pet."

We sit in silence again. It was an awkward few moments but they felt like a lifetime. "Are you satisfied?" I ask.

"For now." he said after exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"Are you ready to cooperate?"

"I'll think about it." he said and cut the feed. The lights come up and I step away from the scanner to let the table rise up from the floor. Slumping down in a chair I let out a pent-up breath.

"That went better than you planned for Commander." EDI's disembodied voice said.

"I know." I say. "It just took a lot out of me."

"Shall I stand down weapon systems?"

"Please. Joker, take us back to the Far Rim to resume operations."

"Aye aye commander." his voice came over the speakers.

"EDI, where's Garrus?"

"Forward battery, Shepard."

"Thank you."

* * *

><p>I find Garrus where he always is. Even in space he is obsessed with tactical perfection and absolute firing accuracy. These are traits I hope serve him well in the future. He knows it is me when I enter the room and before I say anything.<p>

"Shepard." he says without turning around.

"How do you do that?" I ask as I take a seat.

He turns to me and does the turian equivalent of a smile. "Your gait, the heaviness of your boots, the fact that no one else barges in here uninvited. I take it from the stand down the meeting went well?"

"As well as it could have."

"Good. I wasn't in the mood to save your ass today." he said and turned back to his console.

"Yeah...about that. I know it's a long ways away but...there's something we have to talk about."

"Are you pregnant?" he jokes without turning towards me. "Because I'm sure it isn't mine."

"No, bastard. I want you to be the captain of the Iwo Jima."

He continues to stare at the console but his fingers aren't moving. I lean back against the bulkhead and wait for him to answer. It takes a minute.

"Surely Zaeed-"

"Is a pale substitute." I disagreed. "You're the best I have Garrus. We've fought across the galaxy and survived battles that were as good as suicide. Through all of it you never gave up or let me give up. You'd have tracked Saren across on the galaxy on principle alone. You have every quality a leader needs. You're my best friend. Do I have to go on? I can't trust the Iwo Jima to anyone else."

"But Omega. My squad. The ship would be like that but times a hundred. So many more lives in my hands."

"I'm not going to force you Garrus. I'll get someone else not quite as good who I don't trust nearly as much. But think about it."

After a moment of contemplation he asks "Who would even crew Iwo Jima?"

"What do you think we're training people for? By the time the ship is funded we will have our own crew ready to board. If you have some ideas on personnel I'd talk to them myself."

"What about the squad?"

"Other than Legion you're the best sniper I've ever seen. You're most effective when I'm smashing the front lines while you take shots I open up. Your team will be Zaeed, Legion, Thane and Kasumi. Jacob will be your first mate and assistant. He's up to it. Miranda trained him exceptionally well."

"Three snipers, two infiltration specialists and one biotic on my team for frontal assaults. That leaves you with all the techs and biotics." Garrus mused.

"Exactly. One of us has reach and the other has flexibility. Your two favorite things."

"Why Jacob as my first mate and not Zaeed? He's got a mountain of experience."

"Zaeed is a damn good soldier but he's angry, mean, nasty. He'll gun down a platoon if he has to but he doesn't mind doing it on piles of innocents. Jacob has the morals to command respect off the battlefield as well as on."

Garrus sighs and then takes a seat next to me. He looks up at the ceiling and thinks for a few moments. "Of all the crazy things you've ever asked me to do I'd never thought you'd be asking me to do this. I don't know if I can handle it."

"You can." I say and bump his plated shoulder.

"All right. I'm not saying yes." he warned. "But it doesn't sound like the worst thing ever."

"Good. Keep it to yourself for a while. I don't want people flooding my terminal with messages because I let a turian be a captain." I dodge his kick on my way out of the room.

* * *

><p>The cargo hold is alive with the sound of gunfire. Simulated gunfire of course produced by blanks as a squad of recruits practiced with laser sights and dummy targets. If they prove useful they would form the backbone of the Iwo Jima's marine corps. Barking orders and obscenities was Zaeed Massani. He was charged with weeding out the capable from the ones that would be liabilities on the battlefield. It was a task that he was remarkably well suited for. I approach from behind him as recruits hit targets with virtual bullets.<p>

"Bring those hostiles down you lazy sons of whores! If that was a mech it would've put ten rounds in your useless corpses by now!"

"Keeping up morale I see." I say as the gunfire subsides.

"Listen up boys!" Massani roared. "This is Commander Shepard! The toughest, deadliest, most feared human in the galaxy! If you pissant cowards turn out to be worth a damn and I haven't shot you yet this is the man you will be working for!"

The recruits look me over. Most are humans but there is a turian and salarian mixed in. This is a good sign.

"Back to work!" Massani snaps and we retire a far enough distance away to talk.

"Recruits look good. Aim, cohesion." I praise.

"Give me a few more months and they'll be worth a damn." Massani beamed.

"You're really taking to this."

"This is what I was born to do Shepard." he tells me with a glow in his eye. "Old soldiers like me are only useful for one last thing. Passing on our knowledge to the next batch. It feels good to do this for once."

"Keep up the good work Zaeed. Glad to see you're adjusting well."

"Back to it Commander. See you."

I have a smile on my face as I walk up the stairwell back to the elevator. "Shep?" I hear a voice say coming from below. I stop long enough to hear it again.

"Jack?" I call.

"Yeah." I reverse direction and walk down to the hidey hole the basement. All the time we've been on the Normandy and she still refuses to move into a cabin with a little more creature comforts than a hard bed. She's sitting on the edge of it hunched over like she always is.

"Jack." I say as casually as possible. I make a point to visit her every two weeks or so in a random pattern so it doesn't seem like it's been scheduled. I'm over a week away from making a pit stop here.

"What can I do for you?" I ask.

"I was wondering how things were going." she answers.

I sit down next to her. She wouldn't admit it but she enjoyed these talks. "Well we have six pardons confirmed for your fifteen major warrants. Another five pending. Those hanar are still pretty steamed about the vandalism thing."

"Hah."

"But there's progress being made. That news piece won you over a lot of fans. It doesn't hurt that people know you personally led Commander Shepard through a cloud of Collector death insects."

"Hmm."

"So...how's that uh...thing going?" I ask.

"Oh. Well. Better."

She stood up and started pacing like she always does when she gets uncomfortable. "It's a lot easier to talk about things when you know the other person has no idea who you are and can't see you."

"Is it helping?"

"I guess." she said and stopped pacing long enough to rummage through her things. "She suggested I do stuff to express myself that don't involve hurting people."

Pulling an object up from her boxes Jack produced to my complete surprise a large painting. It was a thing of black, red and violent slashes but here in front of me was physical proof that she was trying to get better. Handing it to me she watched closely as I marveled with a laugh at how much hate could be conveyed in such simple colors.

"What!" she asked angrily.

"Nothing, nothing, it's not like that. I just can't picture you with a brush. I've seen you punch through a mech's reinforced chest plate but I never thought I'd see the day you make an object rather than blow it up."

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah it's- oh is this for me?"

"Of course it is!"

"Oh! Okay. Thank you Jack. I'll hang it up in my cabin."

"I'm not a goddamn kid with a fuckin' art project Shepard! If you don't want it-"

I can't help but laugh as she fumes in front of me. I wave her off as I say, "Jack, calm down, I like it. I don't have room for a bunch of junk in my cabin. The only possessions I keep there are important pieces from my comrades. Some from ones that aren't with us anymore. That's not something you should take lightly."

"Da-damn it Shepard you...you putz." she says and sits down next to me. I set her painting aside and suddenly she's resting her head on my shoulder. It's a smooth, strangely textured thing and it weighs on me in more than one meaning. Possibly the galaxy's most powerful biotic but at the moment she doesn't seem like it. She seems like a scarred girl leaning on me for support and I can't bring myself to refuse it. Her hand wanders over to mine and I allow her to take hold of it.

"Jack..."

"Just for a little while."

I take in a deep breath. I never meant to lead her on but I was genuinely interested in her. While it was true I still found her attractive it was also true that I made it perfectly clear we would not be together. At the time I expected a battle or a slew of curse words or both. I didn't get either.

"This isn't healthy Jack." I say after a few minutes.

"You sound like my shrink."

"Unintentional I assure you."

"Is it really so bad Shepard?"

"It didn't say it was bad. Just unhealthy. Living in the past was always your biggest problem."

Picking her head up she looks at me. I don't dare return her gaze. I'd give away too much. "You're not the past. You're the present. And the future. Why is that so hard to get through that thick skull of yours?" she wonders.

I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes. "Because you know where things stand. Because you're strong enough not to need me."

Abruptly Jack stands and paces a few feet from the bed. "I still don't need you. But that isn't it. You changed me Shepard. That's what you do to people without even realizing it."

I open my eyes and assert, "People change Jack. It has nothing to do with me."

Shaking her head she vigorously disagreed. "No, that isn't true. I'd be the same person I'd always been if we'd never met or I'd taken an escape pod off this ship. The old me wouldn't have gone through the Omega 4 relay for anything. Bad survival move. The old me wouldn't have led you through that swarm."

Standing over me she waited patiently like a statue until I stopped averting my eyes and look at her. I have to in order to get her to finish the conversation. When she locks on I know she means business. "I did it for you Shepard. Nothing mattered to me before all this. Now I want to stay on this ship. I want to keep helping. Even the collection of pricks you have aboard don't bother me as much as they used to. I really liked going to Miranda's office and screwing with her terminal when she wasn't there. These days I kind of miss having her around to piss off. This is all your fault."

"You'll find someone else-" I start.

"Bullshit."

"What am I supposed to tell you Jack?"

"You're so damn smart Commander. You always know what to say. What would you do if you were me?"

"I don't know!" I shout without meaning to. Sometimes she makes me so frustrated. I force myself to speak the next sentence quietly. "I don't always have answers for you. I've done the best I can for everyone. It's not perfect and neither am I."

Jack watches me with the feral eyes of a stalking predator. Any weakness, even a fleeting one, she can pick up on in an instant. The key is to never back down from her or let up when you know you're right. The fugitive towers over me seemingly larger than she is but I never cower away.

"I'm going to ask you a question Shepard." she finally said. "I want you to tell me the truth."

"I have never lied to you Jack. Not even little white ones."

"If something happens," she continues without acknowledging what I said, "and we lose more people what happens to us?"

"Oh. You mean if something happens to her." I say with dawning realization about what we're really discussing.

"Fine. To her." Jack nods.

"If it was your doing I'd never forgive you." I threaten.

"Shut up Shepard you know I wouldn't. Answer the question."

I lean back to get a bit of space between us. Crossing her arms in front of me and leaning to one side she waits for me to speak. Dressed in the same black raider style she always is Jack never looked better. But I'm a man of principle and some things I simply will not do no matter what. Engaging in multiple romances was never an option. That isn't what she was talking about though. This was a hypothetical scenario when there were no other options.

"You can assume what I'm going to tell you." I say grudgingly. "Why bother asking?"

"I want to hear you say it. You always do what you say you're going to do even if it's something insane."

"It wouldn't be an overnight thing Jack. It could take a year, two, three to recover from something like that."

"And when you did?"

I sigh. There's no way out of this. I can't lie, threaten, flee, fight or argue. I had to tell her what she wanted to hear. I had to admit to myself that it was a possibility if remote and unlikely.

"If something terrible like that happened I would have to be able to grieve and recover from it. If and when I was ready to move on...I would not have to look far."

"That's what I thought." she said triumphantly.

"It may never happen Jack."

"I can wait." she says nonchalantly back in her normal not-giving-a-crap mode.

"You shouldn't." I advise.

"Last I checked you gave me orders on the battlefield. Not in life Commander. I'll make my own decisions."

"As you wish Subject Zero."

"Don't call me that. You know I hate it." she curled her lip.

I smile. I did know.

* * *

><p>The heavy bag takes repeated crushing blows over and over. The thuds echo through the training room and down my arm. Reinforced and weighing close to four hundred kilos it still bends and shakes as I unleash a series of strikes that would have crippled enemies in the field. While my muscles were surgically enhanced with the latest technology one must have the knowledge on how to correctly apply them or energy is wasted. Only years of practice would ensure maximum efficiency with each hit.<p>

Guns were useful and I never left the ship without one but I only used them sparingly in battle when needed. They help structurally weaken tough enemies or buildings for follow up blows. Sniper rifles were particularly useful for extreme distances but were never a mainstay of my arsenal. So many in the galaxy depended on their shields and weapons to carry them through fire fights. A skilled hand to hand combatant could quickly and easily deprive them of both using a mix of speed, surprise and aggression. A Vanguard such as myself is trained to devastate enemies in close range before falling back to a safer location. It is a tactic that rarely fails me. When it does I have the best around providing combat support.

Here though is where such effectiveness is built and honed. Battles are won as much in the training room as they are in the field and I am nothing if not fully prepared. Sweating profusely I am halfway done with my daily work out when Thane's voice emanates from nearby and I nearly jump out of my skin.

"Could use a few pointers." he says quietly in his inhuman yet suavely subtle voice. I did not hear or see him enter the room.

"For the angels' sake Thane stop doing that!"

"Your form is good but your creativity, lacking." he rasps as he walks around the bag.

"Seems to have worked pretty well so far." I say cynically.

"Yes, on untrained brutes and mechs. A real opponent, a true master would pick you apart even with your armor." he says matter of factly.

"A real opponent like you?"

"I don't have much time left Shepard." he says with his hands behind his back looking up at the ceiling. "Helping you has...eased my burden but I can do more. I can always do more."

I take a seat on a gym bench and drink some Powerthirst to regain fluids. "What are you saying Thane?"

"You will fight on after I'm gone. Few have a cause as just as yours Shepard. I'd like to teach you while I'm still here. That I might assist you in spirit when my body fails me."

I'm surprised by his offer. While a part of me believes I don't need guidance I would not turn down help from a dying man. Especially since the one in question was as brutally skilled as the drell assassin.

"I'd be honored Thane."

"Good. We will begin tomorrow. I suggest you get a good night's sleep."

Much later I head to my cabin to shower and afterward sit down at my personal terminal. With Cerberus there were never many messages to attend to that weren't filtered or taken care of by my staff. These days I had new ones arriving every few seconds it seemed. I find myself wishing Miranda were around to handle them. Alliance contacts, alien governments, mining and ship contractors, average citizens wanting to help. Even with Chambers forwarding only the important messages there was so much to coordinate. I could use a voice program to write the messages but I prefer to do it by hand. I'd found the sound of my own voice begins to annoy me after an hour or so.

It takes two of them to finish going through all my messages. It had been a draining day and I gladly push the holoboard away. My gaze wanders around from the prized toy ships above my desk to the personal items left of my terminal. A picture of Liara. Two posthumous medals awarded to Miranda and Grunt. My failures and successes here in one spot. I pick up the picture and smile to myself. We'd been through so much her and I. Perhaps too much time had passed to walk down that road again. Perhaps not. I did think of her a little more often than I would admit to anyone.

"Day dreaming again Commander?" EDI's voice came up over the speakers.

"EDI. What did I tell you about invading people's privacy?" I ask in good nature.

"You have not yet requested I shut off sensors in your cabin today." she reminds me.

"Oh. Right. Still on from the day before."

"Would you like to shut off sensors now?"

"No EDI, chat with me a while. I like talking to you." I say as I move myself to the couch.

"Of course Commander."

"It must seem strange to you." I say as I settle into the cushions. "That I keep all of these things around. My old helmet, tags, photos."

"Negative. I have files on human sentimentality. You keep these objects as reminders of past events even though you remember these events very well."

Pouring myself a half glass of wine I silently agree. Reclining and sipping at my drink I say, "What about you EDI? Do you keep certain events, recordings of events I mean, separate from others? Do you value some more than others?"

"I am built to operate a ship Commander. Not to build attachment to events."

"You build attachment to us don't you?"

"That is different."

"No it isn't." I gesticulate with my glass as if EDI was another person in the room. "You wouldn't spend so much time talking to Joker. You wouldn't make sure his cabin was a little warmer just the way he likes it. That doesn't happen for anyone else."

"Mr. Moreau's physical preferences are known to me based on our conversations Commander. Not due to favoritism towards him over other members of the ship."

"I think it is."

"What is your point Commander?"

"Whoa, calm down there girl. I was just suggesting that maybe you're becoming a little more human."

"I am unaware of such changes. Perhaps a system diagnostic is in order to purge my memory of any human infection."

I cock my head to the side and make a confused face. "That was a joke." EDI adds.

"Ehhhh..." I say while massaging the bridge of my nose. "That will be all for today EDI."

"Logging you out Shepard."

I spend a blissfully unknown amount of time listening to soft music and savoring the wine by the droplet. Having a break in my normally pre-planned day is a rare occasion and I enjoy not having to keep track of every minute. It is pleasant to let the time slide by for once.

I'm somewhere in between the cork and the bottom of the bottle when the door to my cabin opens. Only one person walks in to my private quarters unannounced. I lean forward to the control panel on my table and engage the decontamination routine. Gases hiss and fans softly whir into motion as the already clean air in the room is sterilized again. The dainty steps of Tali'Zorah vas Normandy come towards me and she moves into view around the corner. I toast the sight of her purple, glossy mask as she views me disapprovingly.

"Glad to see the captain setting a fine example for his crew." she says with crossed arms. Her sarcasm only flashes briefly but it is one of the most endearing things about her. I can't help but stick my tongue out at her like a five year old.

"Command takes a lot out of you. Wine puts it back in." I inform her loftily and take another sip. Crawling onto the couch she works her way to my chest and takes the glass from my hand to set on the table. Resting her head near my shoulder she doesn't speak for a few minutes. Her breaths click in and out of the mask filter while the soft music bumps and rumbles a few feet away. In this moment I am happy.

"You're thinking of the past. The ones you lost." Tali says in that oddly inflected tone. I do not have to waste words agreeing with her; she was stating a fact instead of asking a question.

"Wrex, Kaiden, Grunt, Miranda." she recited like a litany of sorrows. "Do you still feel guilty?"

"Not guilty. Responsible." I say, echoing something Mordin once told me. "I can't bring them back. The least I can do is not forget them."

"I am not happy to see Miranda gone but…the added competition wouldn't have been so welcome."

"Don't speak ill of the dead Tali." I scold her. "They can't defend themselves."

Nudging me with a three fingered hand Tali forces a small smile to crease my face. "That was…a physical thing." I admit. "Miranda was a fine officer and a good friend but it was never going to be serious."

"Reassuring." she said dryly.

"Come on, cut me some slack. You hadn't even come aboard yet."

"And when I did?"

"What can I say?" I shrug. "I'm a sucker for a damsel in distress wearing a face mask."

She laughs. Tali hardly ever laughs. So wound up, so nervous all the time with the constant well-being of the Flotilla on her mind. It's a sound I never tire of hearing when it comes.

"And Jack?" she says suddenly serious again.

I nod over at the newest addition to my wall. "Is that…art?" she asks.

"I kinda liked it."

"Is she still…"

"Yeah."

The quarian engineer pulls her cool, slightly rough suit a little farther onto me. "I'm not that kind of gal Shepard."

"Neither am I Tali. I told her what I've always said. I'm with you."

"What will happen?"

"Right now?"

"No, in the future. What will become of us?"

I shift so I can look into her glowing eyes through the glass visor. "I can't know that Tali. But moments like these are ones that will make everything worth it. Like when I'm headed into a battle I know I can't win." I say as I run a hand along her ribs and down her scaly suit. Underneath was a frail, soft body that rarely saw the light of day. I was lucky to have her trust.

"What do you think will happen with the Flotilla?"

"You're exiled but look at everything we've done for your people. At some point the public outcry and our leverage will be too great for the admirals to ignore. Give it time."

I play with her thin fingers while she stares at me. She does this often. It doesn't bother me nor does it bother me that she's an alien. I'd been a spacer my whole life. Being around aliens had no stigma with me that other humans who grew up back on Earth carried with them. If there was any trace of xenophobia in my psyche Liara would have gotten me over it long ago. In a way my past with her is what made my relationship with Tali so natural.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks and interrupts my reverie.

"My complex history with aliens."

"You mean Liara." she correctly deduced.

"Yes." I say slightly annoyed by her ability to read my mind.

"Do you miss her?"

I shift uncomfortably. "She moved on Tali. Two years is a long time. I've moved on too."

"But she's done a lot for you Shepard. That and she's very pretty."

"These things are true. But you're prettier."

"Nice try getting back on my good side." She said with mock anger. "You still didn't answer my question though. Do you miss her?"

"She'll always be special to me. Just not in that way anymore."

"If things had happened differently-"

"They haven't." I remind her sternly.

"Fine, fine. Did you always think of me 'in that way'?" she prodded.

"Huh? No, I had no idea. Guess I was pretty distracted back then though."

"What do you think now?"

The room finishes its cycle of filtering. I take off Tali's mask and set it on the table. "I think that in another six months or so you'll be close to fully adapted to me."

"Oh ho. Is that so Commander?" she says in her natural voice. I love the way it sounds without the distortion from the breathing mask.

"First the Reapers." I yawn. "Then we'll see about reclaiming your home world. Even if I have to land down there and take the geth apart one by one all by myself."

"Shepard…how do you make mechanized violence sound so romantic?"

"Funny you should ask. That's a skill I picked up in Spectre school. Never know when you might need it."

Looking over my shoulder she said, "We should probably move to the bed."

"We should."

"Shepard?"

"Yes Tali'Zorah vas Normandy?"

"Don't ever change."

I get a call on my terminal a few minutes later. It goes unanswered.


End file.
